“That wasn’t a denial,” I smirked.
“You think every woman wants you.”
“No,” I said honestly. “Just you.”
That shut her up. Good. I reached for the zipper at the back of her dress slowly, eyes never leaving hers while I dragged it down inch by inch. Chiara’s breath caught.
“You’re trembling,” I murmured.
“You make me nervous,” she said.
My mouth twitched slightly. “That’s not the only thing I make you.”
The dress slipped from her shoulders with painful slowness. Creamy skin emerged beneath the silk little by little until I finally pushed the fabric down entirely and let it pool around her feet. Jesus Christ.
I’d seen her naked before. But tonight felt different. Tonight she wasn’t fighting me with the same fury. Tonight she was standing there flushed and breathing hard while my gaze dragged slowly over every inch of her body. Waiting for me. Her body nearly snapped the last thread of restraint I had left.
“You’re staring,” she whispered.
“I’m trying to decide how much self-control I still have,” I muttered. Her stomach tightened visibly at that. Cute.
I stepped closer until she had to tilt her head back to keep looking at me. My hand slid into her hair slowly, gripping just enough to make her gasp softly.
“You know what drove me insane today?” I asked quietly.
“What?”
“The way you looked at me with Sienna,” I murmured.
Her expression shifted slightly.
“You kept forgetting to hate me,” I continued softly. “Every time you laughed, you looked guilty afterward.” My thumb brushed her lower lip. “Like you were terrified you might actually like your husband.”
Chiara swallowed hard.
“You confuse me,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“You’re cruel and awful.” Her voice softened slightly. “Then you hold Sienna like she matters more than anything.”
Something sharp twisted low in my chest. “She does matter.”
“So do you,” she whispered before she could stop herself. The words hung between us. Heavy. Dangerous. I felt my control slip another inch.
“Chiara,” I said quietly. “I’m not going to be gentle. I don’t do gentle.”
Her blue eyes widened slightly like she realized too late what she’d admitted. “I-I’m scared.”
“Do you want this?” I asked roughly, and her lashes fluttered. Closed. Open. Looking up at me like I was her damnation and savior all at once.
I kissed her before she could take it back. Not rough this time. Slow. Deep. Hungry in a way that felt almost dangerous now because I couldn’t separate possession from emotion anymore.
Chiara melted against me with a soft broken sound that nearly destroyed my self-control completely. I walked her backward slowly until the backs of her knees hit the bed. Then I pushed her down carefully beneath me, watching her blonde hair spill across black silk sheets while her wide blue eyes stayed locked on mine.
“You still scared?” I murmured against her mouth. “Scared of your husband?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
